The Alternative is Dying
by Amyeyl
Summary: Trowa and Wufei deal with life, love, pain, and of course, high school. AU, 3x5 main pairing


**Disclaimer: **You know the horrid drill.  
**Warnings: **AU, some OOC,Angst-y I suppose, small chance of character death along the way, not sure, drug use, self-harm... will add anything else that pops up  
**Pairings:** 3x5 main, one-sided 4x3 for now... more later  
**Summary: **Trowa and Wufei deal with life, love, pain, and of course, high school.

**A/N:** It finally bit me, I suppose, that hideous little bug that makes you want to stick the boys in high school. And since I seem to be incapabale of writing a happy story on my own without strict guidelines, they're gonna have a hell of a time at it. I don't have a set plot for this, as of yet, so suggestions are welcome (as long as they aren't along the lines of Trowa should dump Wufei for Quatre... to me, Quatre is a more restrained version of Relena, and that's only 'cause he's got a war to fight). What else? They're 17 or thereabouts here, Juniors in high school. That's all that's coming to mind now... so yeah.

The Alternative is Dying  
by Amyeyl

**Chapter One  
**

"Class dismissed."

Trowa Barton glanced up sharply from the doodle he was emblazoning in the margin of his notebook. Their teacher, one Mr. Borland, was staring directly at him. A slight smirk lingered about his lips as the other students hurriedly packed their belongings and left the room. Trowa slammed his books closed and shoved them indiscriminately into an old backpack along with his other supplies, not caring for the welfare of any. Only when he was finished and ready to go did he glance at the clock.

"Ten minutes," he murmured as he left his desk and drew even with his teacher at the front of the room. The man nodded, smiling again.

"Got you." Trowa frowned at the jibe, and the man in front of him sobered up as well, "Seriously though, Trowa, where were you today?" Trowa could detect the note of true concern in the man's voice, echoed carefully on his face.

"Not here," he heaved his shoulders up in an exaggerated shrug and made to move past the teacher. Mr. Borland reached out and caught hold of Trowa's arm, preventing him from leaving just yet.

"That's not like you." His statement was met with a prolonged silence.

"No, it's not," Trowa replied finally, softly. He paused, and then, "I've gotta go meet Wufei." With a sigh, Mr. Borland released the boy's arm and let him leave.

"Tell him 'hi' for me."

Trowa nodded an affirmative as he left the room. He began his trek to the other side of the school complex, his thoughts still lingering in the classroom. Mr. Borland was a good guy, one of the few Trowa respected enough to actually listen to, and the only one he really liked out of the entire school.

The man was everything you'd expect a good teacher to be. He knew his subject well and made others want to know it. He was there for his students whenever they needed him. He never looked down on them and always had the option of a makeup test for students who wanted the chance to do better. And it didn't hurt that he almost always ended class early.

Trowa liked Mr. Borland immensely, and enjoyed every one of the classes he'd had with the man. He tried to have one with him at least once a year. Despite all this, he hadn't wanted to be there today. He hadn't wanted to be anywhere. After a restless night, he'd woken up feeling agitated and anxious. Going to school would almost certainly make things worse, and so he'd contemplated skipping.

The only drawback of such a decision would be the lack of one Chinese boy, whose classroom, he realized, he'd almost arrived at. He was _always_ in the mood for Wufei. Trowa took up a position down the hall from the classroom door, effectively hidden from sight by the rows of lockers. When Wufei emerged, he wanted to be able to watch him from a distance.

As the minutes until lunch ticked steadily away, a classroom door across from him opened. Students began to stream out, chatting happily at one another. Their meaningless chatter irritated him and he tried to will Wufei's class to end. He wanted to take the boy and get away from everyone else.

"Trowa!" An excited voice sounded from his right, rising above the monotonous droning of the other students. Indignant shouts and pained yelps suggested the owner of the voice was fighting their way through the crowded hallway. Trowa didn't need to look to verify this, as suddenly the voice was coming from right beside him, and its owner had grabbed hold of his hand.

"Trowa! Were you waiting for me? That's so nice of you! Why don't we head up to lunch?" There was a tug on his hand, trying to get him to move in the opposite direction. "Trowa?" The voice questioned again.

"I'm waiting for Wufei," he said, gently disentangling their fingers. He shoved his hand into his pocket to discourage any further touching.

"Wufei? Why are you waiting for him?"

"Because I'd like to see my boyfriend during lunch," he said simply.

"Your boyfriend? Trowa, are you still playing at that?" Now Trowa did turn to acknowledge the annoying presence at his side.

"Playing at?" He asked, with more calm than he felt. It wouldn't do to upset the owner of the large aquamarine eyes staring up at him. The boy possessing them was prone to tears, and he didn't want to feel the accusing stares of all the other students if he were to make him cry. The boy was also his friend, had been forever, and he didn't like upsetting him, but his continued refusal to acknowledge Trowa's relationship with Wufei didn't deserve the civility with which he was addressed. So in this instance, the calm response was merely to placate the masses.

"Well, he's smart, I'll give you that. And I suppose he could be attractive, if you go for that kind of thing. But he's not for you Trowa. I don't see why you're still playing around with him when you could be with someone more suited to you." The boy smiled up at him in a way that made it all too obvious who he thought was a better match.

"More suited to him, Quatre?" The blonde jumped, startled. Trowa cursed him silently, the defense of his boyfriend dying on his lips as he stared at the boy himself. He'd missed Wufei's approach because of this stupid conversation.

Quatre turned to face the Chinese boy who'd joined them. "Ah, Wufei, hello." The smile on the blonde's face was a little forced.

"Hello Quatre," Wufei replied, looking from the blonde to Trowa.

Trowa felt himself relax for the first time all day as the dark gaze settled on him. A smile broke out on his face as he took the required step forward to wrap his arms around the smaller Chinese boy. And just like that, everything was okay again. Nothing mattered except the boy in his arms, and if he could just get closer, bring him even more into himself, Trowa felt that maybe he could get through the day.

"Wufei…" he whispered against the top of the boy's head. Wufei's arms came up and encircled the taller boy as well, squeezing him tightly. "I missed you."

"Ahem," the unfamiliar voice almost made Trowa lift his head from where it rested. Almost. "_Wufei!_" The scandalized voice continued, and then Wufei was pulling away from him. "I expect better from you, young man. You know the rules about PDAs."

"Sorry, Mrs. Sheppy," Wufei responded, looking away from everyone and towards the floor. In that moment, Trowa wanted to kill this woman, this teacher, for daring to tell him that he couldn't touch Wufei when he wanted to, needed to. "It won't happen again."

"Let's hope it won't," she said haughtily. The woman glanced at Trowa with barely concealed animosity before walking away, no doubt to spoil some other teenager's day.

"Wufei?" When the woman was out of sight, Trowa reached out and gently touched Wufei's face. He wasn't surprised to find the boy's cheek slightly damp. He wanted nothing more than to pull the boy against him once more, but he shoved the desire down, harshly cursing himself for his selfishness. But then Wufei's fingers were at his cheek as well, seeking out Trowa's. Trowa worried the boy would knock his hand away in anger, but he only grasped the hand tightly and lowered it from his face. He didn't let go.

"Let's go to lunch, okay?" Wufei lifted his head slightly, so only Trowa could see his face. There were no more tears in the dark eyes. Trowa wanted to kiss him.

"No, no lunch. I don't want to go there."

"But I'm hungry, Trowa. I missed breakfast."

"You need to eat as well Trowa," Quatre added. Trowa looked over at the boy. He'd forgotten that he was even there. The blonde offered him a brilliant smile. "Come on, when's the last time we ate together?"

"You dragged me to your house for dinner last night," Trowa replied. He had indeed eaten at the boy's home the night before. Maybe that contributed to the horrible time sleeping he had experienced. He'd never felt comfortable in the boy's large home, outside of his room, or around his father and numerous sisters. He'd always felt like he wasn't good enough when he was around them, even though the family had never remotely hinted at such a thing, and the feeling only increased as he grew older.

"Oh right, how silly of me to forget. Well, we can still have lunch together. There's no harm in it."

"Yes there is," Trowa stated, squeezing Wufei's hand. He silently begged Wufei not to make him go into the cafeteria. Wufei searched his face for a moment before giving in with a sigh.

"Alright, Trowa. Let's get out of here for a while. Just… can we stop by the vending machines first?"

"Anything for you, Wufei."

"Except a nice, warm lunch," Wufei retorted, and headed in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. They'd have to take the long way around to get to the vending machines and still avoid the room.

"Except a nice, warm lunch," Trowa agreed, "at least for today." He knew Wufei understood him, and wasn't really angry, no matter how it may have sounded to anyone else.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Quatre, on the other hand, didn't have such an insight. He stood, watching the two boys leave, and wondered how he could make Trowa see how wrong Wufei was for him. This incident alone proved it.


End file.
